


How To Live Forever

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Series: The Bright Side Of The Dark Side [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Implied future OT6, Others are present in the background, spooky scary au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:55:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: ABSTRACT:Ryan heads off to a three-day conference to present a paper that will rattle the entire scientific community. He plans to ask Gavin out once he’s back home - but the revelation of a new problem makes him second-guess their future.LITERATURE REVIEW:Sequel toIf You Love It, Bring It Back From The Dead,These Hungry Ghosts,andSunlight and Shadows.





	How To Live Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that this is going to have major scientific inaccuracies. I picked the structure more as an artistic choice than because I wanted it to accurately resemble an actual research paper. The conference is purely a means to set up the next few stories in the series. <3

**I. THE SETUP**

The night before he leaves, Ryan’s sitting in the middle of the chaos of his laboratory, head in his hands, having what can only be scientifically described as a great big fucking freakout.

“USB, check... keynote, check... backup google slides... backup backup powerpoint... backup backup backup PDF... good afternoon fellow members of the... or did I decide to do that after the opening hook? Flight leaves at ten, that means be at the airport by nine, that means leave the house at eight, that means wake up at seven-"

"Ryan!" 

He jumps nearly a mile out of his chair and whirls around to see Gavin bouncing into the room, a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth. He's entirely too energetic for this time of night, and Ryan grimaces as he kicks a swivel chair out of his path and it skids across the room and slams into a cabinet. The muffled sound of breaking glass makes Ryan cringe, but he's distracted enough to forget it a moment later.

"What are you still doing up? It's past midnight! You have to wake up at six!"

"Six?" Ryan cries, and frantically digs for his phone to check his flight time.

"Yes, _Ry-_ an, six for safety, that's what we decided on! And so that you have time to eat breakfast. You wouldn't want to faint in the middle of something important, after all!" He grins wickedly. There's a piece of anchovy stuck to his front tooth.

The very thought chills Ryan to his bones! But then he looks up and sees Gavin's snickering little face, and exasperation takes over. The others have been tormenting him all week over the myriad of ways his presentation could go horrifyingly wrong, and by now he's stopped being anxious and is veering closer to real fucking annoyed.

"Quit it, won't you?" he says, reaching forward and grabbing a stand of test tubes from the bench next to him as Gavin throws himself carelessly onto it, still chewing with his mouth wide open. "This is very important to me."

"Yes, Ryan," Gavin says dutifully.

"This is a gathering of the highest minds in the scientific community. It's filled with very important people from all across the globe. Some of my mentors from university will be there - some of my heroes, too - people I've looked up to for the last decade! To be asked to speak is a great honour."

"Yes, Ryan, of course, Ryan," Gavin chimes in. "Yes, yes, and you'll blow them all away!"

Ryan's eyes narrow.

"Are you mocking me?" he demands, and Gavin shakes his head, the silly smile fading.

"Not at all! You'll smash it. You're the smartest guy I know."

"In this house, that's not saying much," Ryan mutters, but he can't help his smile, because the utter affection and sincerity in Gavin's voice makes him blush a little. Always has. He can't really help it.

Gavin stares around the workroom. It's been a while since they used much of the equipment in it. Throughout Autumn was when they did the bulk of the fieldwork and practical research. When winter set in, and all its dark dangers, they spent most days indoors analysing the data, writing the paper, putting it all together. That was nice, too, in a different way. Ryan will always love being outdoors, surrounded by fresh air and the smell of fairy dust and the chitter of tree elves - that thrill of adrenaline that comes with getting your boots muddy and your hands dirty, in fully immersing yourself into the world that you're uncovering.

But it had been good to be indoors for a bit, especially as the snow started coming down heavily. Down here in the cosy warmth, surrounded by half-empty mugs of tea with whiteboards covered in Ryan's messy scrawl, the others ducking in now and then to bring them food or listen to Ryan's rambling. Late nights when Ryan would wake up face-down at his desk to find a blanket over his shoulders, or look up from his work with tired eyes and an aching neck to find Gavin curled in a ball on his chair and would finally take a break to carry him to bed.

He hasn't felt so productive since he was working on his dissertation, and somehow this was even better - having Gavin along for the ride, having the others around too - someone to share it all with, his joys and frustrations. He felt like a new man when they finally sent the damn paper off and he and Gavin emerged into the sunlight like Lazarus reborn.

And now it's time to share it all with the world. And now Gavin's standing here in front of him, chewing on his pizza and smiling kind of sadly, and something painful tugs in Ryan's chest.

"I wish you could come along," he blurts out.

Gavin looks up. His faces softens and he sets his food down on a bench that is definitely not sterile and says, sadly, "I wish I could come, too."

God, it hurts to think about. It hurts now Ryan's letting it. Gavin's been so good - not speaking a word of complaint the whole time, cheerfully helping Ryan with all his preparation, not so much as letting his smile drop - and Ryan hasn't wanted to bring it up, fearing it would seem like rubbing salt in the wound, but-

It's been over a year now, since that terrible night in the forest, since Gavin came back. Living up here, isolated from everyone else and especially from other humans, sometimes it's easy to forget about it. They're used to Gavin, after all.

But this has brought it all home again, because if Gavin was still human then he'd be preparing to come right along to the Annual Conference of Fey and Fantastical Research, and Ryan would be excited to introduce him to everybody, to show him all the projects and people and minds that shaped him in his youth, to have him by his side during all the dinners and drinks and discussions-

And to let him have credit for all the help he's given Ryan since coming here. They'd both been terribly excited about that, before.

But now there's not a fucking chance that Ryan's letting Gavin anywhere near his peers. They'd be all over him in an instant- poking and prodding, firing question after question at him, probably demanding to tear him apart to see what makes him tick. They wouldn't see him as a person. Just a research experiment.

Hell, he's Ryan's greatest achievement and he still hasn't told a single soul outside of the people in this house about what he's done. Who cares if it would make him famous - this secret cannot fucking escape.

And that means Gavin can't leave the little haven they've created here - can't go into the cities or near anyone who might realise who he is. What Ryan's done.

"This is as much your work as mine," he begins, and Gavin starts shaking his head.

"It's not. I did the filming, I helped you out, but the bulk of it is you-"

"You still made it possible. It would've been twice as slow without your work." He pauses, swallowing. The silence between them feels far too heavy somehow. "You deserve credit for it - I'm sorry you can't come along. I wish you could."

"Not your fault," Gavin says softly. "Not anyone's fault." He shrugs a little, forces a smile. "It's okay, Ryan, really. Just take lots of pictures for me, and you can tell me everything that happens after! And smash that presentation. No flubs, okay?"

Ryan laughs, glad when Gavin smiles wider.

"No flubs, I promise."

Gavin nods happily. He picks up his pizza again, stares at it for a moment, then lights up as though he's just remembered something.

"Oh! I nearly forgot why I came down here." He leans in, conspiratorially, and Ryan moves closer to him as he whispers, "I just saw something I wanted to tell you about."

"What is it?" Ryan asks with a frown.

"We were all out there having our bevs and pizza night and I couldn't find Michael and Ray, so I went to look for them, right, and I thought they might have decided to go down towards the lake so I was just going to check when I saw them behind a tree and I think they were kissing."

"Wait, what?"

_"Kissing_ , Ryan!" He gestures so enthusiastically that a piece of pepperoni flies through the air and lands perilously close to the printout of Ryan's travel schedule. "I mean, I couldn't quite tell - it was dark and they spun around when I got close and they didn't say anything about it, and I felt kinda awkward asking - but I'm pretty sure I interrupted them, so. Whoops, I guess!"

"Whoops indeed," Ryan mutters.

He can't help feeling a bit strange about this. He doesn't know why. It's not a surprise, after all. There's been something building between Michael and Ray for months, and you'd have to be blind not to see it.

"I think I was more embarrassed than they were!" Gavin continues. "But I guess they finally got together, huh?"

"I guess so," Ryan agrees, and sees the way Gavin keeps darting little glances at him, trying to gauge his reaction-

And that's when it hits him, he supposes. Geoff and Jack are sort of quietly together - everyone knows it even if it was never said aloud, but they hold hands quite often and sometimes go off on trips for a few days just the two of them - and if Michael and Ray are together now...

That leaves him and Gavin.

He's never forgotten the kiss, the day before that fateful night when Gavin's entire existence was changed forever. In his mind he still associates the two of them together. In his mind, he almost blames himself - it was his fault Gavin went out alone that night, after all, and he still hates himself sometimes for pushing him away that evening. God, everything would've been so fucking different.

That guilt is part of why he still hasn't progressed things, even now that he knows Gavin remembers what happened. Even if they've grown closer and closer since then, even if he has no doubt in his mind that he does love Gavin, that Gavin loves him, that if he was to make a move on him right now the other man would probably be happy about it. 

Michael and Ray finally moving things forward feels like some sort of trigger, like it will push all the other cogs into motion. Just like this conference is going to be a huge step for Ryan's reputation, will probably shift the nature of his work from this point forward - he can't help but think that it's time to stop sitting around. That the comfortable 'almost' they'd settled into is over now. 

It's time to take the leap.

"It's nice," Gavin continues, his voice just a little too loud in the way Ryan knows means there's something he wants out of this conversation that he can't quite bring himself to straight-out ask for. "I mean, they've been close for a while. I'm glad they finally ended up together. I think they'll be really happy. Especially Michael, I know he worries so much about his whole immortality thing."

"He does," Ryan whispers, and Gavin reaches out and pokes his shoulder.

"But I'm not a hundred percent sure what I saw, so I'm gonna keep an eye on them while you're away and see if they really are together!"

"You mean spy on them?" Ryan teases, and Gavin gives an indignant huff.

"I mean _observe_ them, Ryan. For evidence. I'll call you every night and update you on my findings."

"Good plan," Ryan says, and relishes the way Gavin smiles at him, something warm swelling in his chest. "I mean, I'm sure they'll tell us eventually, but you can be in charge of keeping me updated on everything that goes on while I'm away. Knowing you lot, you'll have some sort of fantastic adventure the second I'm out the door."

Gavin giggles, and leaps off the bench. He bounds for the door and Ryan suddenly wants to reach after him - grab his hand, pull him back, say something. The words are building up in his throat and he keeps thinking about Michael and Ray, pressed into the hollow of a tree, dappled moonlight through the leaves washing their faces in blue light - a trembling breath, Michael's eyes glowing in the dark, nervous and wide, Ray unsure where to put his hands-

And a first kiss. There's power in those, and not just in fairytales.

He should tell Gavin that he loves him. 

But he can't find the words, not right now - still stinging with the blame that it's his fault, his fault, _his fault_ Gavin's like this, that Gavin can't come with him tomorrow morning.

_After the conference_ , he resolves. He'll do it then.

"Don't stay up too late!" Gavin yells over his shoulder, and Ryan thinks of all the times the other man used to wake him with kisses, or fling himself into his arms when Ryan tried to kick him out of the lab. Something tugs at his heart, and as scared as he is - if Michael can be brave, he knows he can too.

 

* * *

 

**II. THE DEPARTURE**

The whole gang rises at the crack of dawn to see Ryan off. There's a great calamity about his suitcase, which Gavin weighs incorrectly and believes is over the limit to take on the plane. They repack the thing three times before realising he just read the scale wrong.

Then Ryan loses his phone, then he can't remember if he brought his charging cord, then he can't find his return plane tickets-

Somehow having six hands is more confusing than a single, competent pair. But by eight in the morning he's finally ready to head off, and they stand outside the house waiting for the taxi to come and pick him up. Ryan's excited, but also kind of fucking terrified. He hasn't been nervous like this in a long time. Usually he's quite sure of what he's doing.

They all say their goodbyes. Jack hugs him, leaving a thin trail of slime over his clothes and the faint lingering smell of pondwater.

"Good luck out there, Ryan," he says, something about him as calm and reassuring as always. "You'll kill it, I know you will."

"I hope so," Ryan replies nervously. He pulls back and finds the swamp monster's eyes under all the kelpy layers that nearly cover his face. "I'm relying on you to make sure the house doesn't burn down while I'm away."

Jack gives his hooting laugh.

"Your experiments are usually the biggest fire risk around!"

"I'd argue Geoff takes that title," Ryan says, but smiles a little before leaning in and whispering, "Take care of them all. Especially Gavin."

"You're only going for three days," Jack points out, but nods, earnestly. "I will."

He feels a little reassured as he turns away to the others. He smiles and waves at Michael and Ray, who nod back - neither are big huggers, or ones for great shows of sentimentality, but they both look a little sad that he'll be going. There's something nice about that. The trip's not even that long - it shouldn't matter to them - but it's good to feel needed.

Maybe he's just imagining things because of what Gavin told him earlier, but he fancies the two of them are standing a little closer together than usual, glancing at each other a little more often. But he doesn't dwell on it - a moment later Gavin's walking towards him anyway.

"Send me all the pictures!" he says, as he yanks Ryan into a tight hug.

Ryan hugs him back without hesitation. Gavin's skin is warm for once, after standing for quite a while in the sun, and they've long stopped being scared of accidentally damaging him by handling him too roughly. For a moment it feels like the old days. He doesn't want to let him go.

"I will."

"I wish you had snapchat!"

"Never. I refuse. But I'll take plenty of pictures to show you when I get back." They pull away from each other and for a moment, staring into his eyes, Ryan almost wants to kiss him. Here and now, in front of all the others - what would they say? Gavin's smiling a little, but his eyes are sad. Ryan grips his arms and takes a steadying breath.

_After. Work this out. It's about damn time._

"Don't get into too much trouble without me," he says, and his voice is teasing but there's an undercurrent of worry in it. Gavin seems to understand; he nods.

"I'll wait until you're back," he says, and sticks his tongue out. Ryan rolls his eyes and bops him on the nose before turning and grabbing the handle of his suitcase.

"I'll walk you down," Geoff says - the taxi's gonna wait at the bottom of the hill - and Ryan nods. They pull away from the others and walk off - Ryan only looks back about six times. Gavin's waving endlessly.

"I know if anything happens, you'll take care of them," Ryan begins, but Geoff lets out a great snort. A ring of smoke emerges from his nose and floats away into the sky.

"No need to be so dramatic, Ryan! You're leaving for three days, not three months. Sometimes you spend that long down in the lab without emerging. All we need is a cardboard cutout of you and it'll be like nothing ever changed."

Ryan can't help but laugh - but he stops when a moment later, Geoff touches his arm.

"I wanted to warn _you_ to be careful, actually," he says. "There'll be a lot of people at this thing, and from what I understand they won't all be human."

"I'll be fine, Geoff," Ryan says gently. "I've been to this conference before, though not as a speaker. Hell, there are more fey in the cities, where I used to live."

"I know," Geoff says, frowning. "But still. Just remember, they're not all as nice - or as safe - as the five of us."

"I'm touched, Geoff, but I can take care of myself-"

"I know, I know. All I'm saying, Ryan, is that just because they're scientists and intellectuals like you doesn't meant they're trustworthy. Just because they're not running feral in the woods doesn't meant they can't be dangerous. Just - watch your back, alright?"

"Of course," Ryan says, though he's a little skeptical - but Geoff nods, something relieved in his face. They've reached the bottom of the hill now, and his taxi is waiting. Geoff hesitates, then pulls Ryan into a sudden hug. He makes a startled noise - but hugs Geoff back, even if he's uncomfortably warm and makes Ryan's clothes smell like smoke.

"We're all so proud of you!" Geoff wails, and Ryan rather awkwardly pats him on the back. Out of all of them the demon wasn't the one he'd pegged to get all emotional, but he can't help his smile.

"Thanks, Geoff. I'll see you soon! Like you said - it's only three days."

"Right." Geoff pulls back, sniffs hard, gives him a manly clap on the shoulders, and disappears in a puff of smoke.

"Holy shit!" yells the cab driver, and Ryan rolls his eyes and goes to get in the car.

 

* * *

 

**III. ARRIVAL**

The last time Ryan came to this conference he was tagging along as a research assistant for one of his honours supervisors. That was over six years ago and since then he hasn't had occasion to come here - has found himself far too busy and couldn't score an invitation anyway. Was spending most of his time writing papers and building up his own professional reputation.

Because of this he's under the impression that no one will know who he is, at least until after his presentation. Why would they know his name, after all?

But the second he walks into the conference area of the hotel where most of the attendees are milling around, getting to know each other and familiarising themselves with the space, a hush falls over the immediate vicinity and all heads turn towards him. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry and still clutching the handle of his carry-on. Blue eyes, brown eyes, red eyes, yellow eyes. The round eyes of humans, the narrowed cat-like slits of werewolves and elves, the inhuman pitch-black irises of immortals. 

_Are they staring at me?_

His first thought is the irrational idea that somehow one of the others has pranked him and drew something on his face, stuck something on his clothes before he left the house, and he somehow hasn't noticed it until now. He glances over his shoulder in case there's someone behind him, but no - it's definitely him they're all looking at.

"Doctor Haywood," an elderly woman calls out, and raises her champagne glass. "You've arrived! Welcome!"

"Thank you," Ryan says, but very suspiciously - her comment seems to break the ice; there are a few nervous smiles before everyone turns back to what they were doing. Still - it's very strange, and as he walks through the hall looking for anyone he knows, he feels people stiffen as he passes, feels their eyes on him warily. No one approaches. It's as though they're afraid of him, or-

Disgusted? Annoyed?

Either way it's clear that they all know who he is, and none of them want to talk to him, and _dear God_ is all he can think, _they hate my paper. They've all read my paper and they hate it and no one will show up for the talk, or worse, I'll be laughed out of the room, I'll be booed and humiliated and labelled a madman, a disgrace to the profession-_

He freezes, confronted suddenly by the entrance to the theatre where he knows he's to give his talk. It's the largest in the building and there's a giant fucking photo of his face printed out and stuck to the wall next to it. 'DOCTOR RYAN HAYWOOD,' the poster reads - Jesus, it's about fifty times the size of him, a headshot that it seems they ripped from his old university profile page - the title of his paper printed beneath it.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he whispers - no wonder everyone recognised him when he walked in. He knows his paper was popular, that it made waves when it was published, but it's only just hitting him now that this is really happening. He lifts his phone and incredulously snaps a picture before heading up to his hotel room, blind to the flustered smiles and nervous glances of everyone he passes.

 

* * *

 

"Oh my God," Gavin laughs over the phone - Ryan called, just to let them know he arrived safely, and he's thinking of taking a short nap. The talks don't start until noon today. "That's magnificent. Bring it home after the conference."

"I can't bring it home! It's not mine-"

"It's your face, of course it's yours. You must take it, Ryan. I want to stick it up in the dining room. It'll be glorious!"

"We are not sticking it up in the dining room," Ryan says, but he can't help smiling a little, and feels his nerves ease.

"Are you having fun there?" Gavin asks. "Jack's corn grew enough so we're gonna roast it all for dinner tonight!"

"I haven't done much yet. The people here seem... wary of me."

"They're probably nervous 'cause they know you're so smart!" Gavin says, with such innocent confidence that it nearly makes Ryan believe it.

"I appreciate that. I'm just... concerned how the talk will be received," Ryan says - it's not often he admits to being unsure of himself, but Gavin's different. The other man's quiet for a moment, seeming to realise how serious Ryan is about this.

"Ryan, they'll love it," he says finally. "Don't doubt yourself. We've all heard you practice and it's great. You were nervous just publishing the damn thing but that went well, didn't it? You got so many nice emails about it! You said this was both our hard work so I'm relying on you to do a good job!"

Ryan laughs.

"Trust you to turn that on me now."

"I mean it! But it's not until tomorrow. Go and make the first move! Talk to people!"

"Coming from the shyest person I know-"

"Ray's the shyest person you know," Gavin announces, cheerfully. "Go make friends. I expect a full report and selfies with them."

Ryan sighs, but when he puts the phone down he's smiling. His hotel room is small, clinical in its sparse furnishings, but the sight of his speech cards lying in the middle of the desk fills him with a looming dread every time he looks over at them. He’s been able to say the entire thing off by heart for a week now, but his mind still goes completely blank when he thinks about speaking in front of the whole audience. He’s definitely going to flub. It was probably a bad idea to have the word ‘extraterrestrial’ in the very first sentence.

He hadn’t realised, quite until now, how much he doesn’t like being away from home. From the comfort of his own bed, his own kitchen - and the _others_. Even having just one of them here would’ve put him at ease.

But it is what it is, and he thinks of Gavin’s instructions and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to get up and leave the room to go and - ugh - _mingle_.

 

* * *

 

**IV. DAY ONE**

It’s funny, Ryan thinks, how having a glass of champagne in hand can somehow instantly make you feel like you’re blending in at one of these events. Lurk awkwardly in the corner with nothing to do with your hands and you look like a total fool. But the second you're holding a glass, suddenly you feel like you belong. It's transformative, seems to instantly straighten his posture and lift his confidence. He's quite certain there must be something psychological about it.

The talks are soon to begin and the various rooms on this floor of the hotel are beginning to become more crowded as more and more people arrive. Ryan recognises some of them, but most still don't dare to approach. He's wandering aimlessly when he freezes, his attention caught by a group laughing rather loudly together in the corner. They look up at the same time, and catch his eye.

"Ryan Haywood!" one of them exclaims - and a palpable awkwardness descends over the entire group.

It's pretty clear why, Ryan thinks grimly. They all worked together in the same lab back at university and these particular students were an obnoxious group of friends. Close to one another, constantly partying on the weekends and sharing laughs among themselves. Ryan clearly the odd one out. Part of it, he has to admit, was his own hostility; they'd invited him out a few times early on and he'd always declined, too awkward and anti-social to want to bother with what he saw as the banalities of university life. But they soon turned to mockery when he began to become more and more interested in the fey as one of his research topics.

'Fairy boy,' he remembers they used to call him, and tease him about having his head in the clouds, and make fun of his research until he'd hide it from them just to avoid having it read out to him in a ridiculous voice.

He'd brushed it off then, but it'd still stung deep inside. He'd been lonely, back then, even if he'd never admit it. It's funny to see them now. It's only when he realises how different they look that he registers quite how old he's gotten-

But in some ways, it's nice. He's not a naive kid any more - and he doesn't care so much what others think. Once he'd've taken some vindictive satisfaction in how their eyes widen, how embarrassed they look now. But he thinks, perhaps, he's mature enough not to care-

(Or maybe it just doesn't matter, now, when he has the others back at the house waiting for him, when he can so easily call on the memory of the stars in Gavin's eyes whenever he looks at him-)

"It's been a damn long time!" the man continues, and when Ryan moves towards them the whole group shift a little closer together, almost defensively, like a pack of wolves. Ryan's more amused than offended. "Last I heard you were living in the middle of nowhere!"

"My work took me to more remote areas," Ryan agrees.

"Your work is astounding," one woman breathes - "Who would have thought out of all of us you'd be the one to hit it big so young?"

It's meant as a compliment, but he raises his eyebrows.

"Who would have thought," he repeats, amused, and sees her cheeks flush awkwardly.

"Your paper really is groundbreaking," another of them pipes up. "I'm looking forward to hearing you speak about it. You've come a long way."

Ryan nods. He can tell how nervous they all are, how gingerly they're tiptoeing around him. It's an odd feeling, after all this time, to be the one with the power. Perhaps it's terrible of him, but he finds he rather likes it.

Still. He turns away only for one of them to step after him.

"Maybe we could catch up after your talk. Have a few drinks, discuss our current work."

There's something almost hopeful in it, and Ryan suppresses a smile. It would be easy to be petty, but he swallows it down.

"Maybe," he replies. "I'm on a tight schedule, but I'll see what happens. We should see each other around over the next few days."

They nod. The second he's a little distance away he sees them turn and exclaim to one another. There's no doubt they're talking about him, but not in the same way they used to whisper behind his back, stifle snickers and cast him amused glances. Still - it's water off a duck's back now, and that's what he's most proud of as he wanders away; that he's stopped focusing on silly things like that. That he feels now, more than he ever did back at uni, that he's right where he needs to be.

 

* * *

 

The talk on zombies is well attended and Ryan gets good seats in the front row. He can't take his eyes off the speaker; Professor Rick Redfield is a mousy little man with watery eyes. Ryan hadn't imagined he'd be so small - he's never looked up the man before but he's read a hell of a lot of his research-

(And a lot of it may or may not have been around the time he was bringing Gavin back, and a little after, desperate for any sort of solution, thinking the disease - or curse, as some claim - might have the answers he wanted-)

Despite his rather non-threatening stature, the man has an extravagantly dramatic writing style, perhaps a little too dramatic, and it shows in the way he speaks.

"Catastrophe," is a word he keeps throwing around. It's one he uses a lot in his writing as he lovingly details the inevitable spread of the zombie virus until the entire world has fallen into an apocalyptic state, every human wiped out in the wake of the threat. "I tell you now, everything I've written, every worst-case-scenario condition, we're finding ourselves in it today. The zombie population has risen by 12% since last year in the United States alone, and it's due to the haphazard safeguards and lack of focus on containment. The mutations in the virus that allowed it to be carried by certain types of bird have led to an inconceivable increase in the danger of infection in rural areas."

His voice rises, eyes blazing as he leans forward, his gaze sweeping the crowds. The room's just a little too small, a little too crowded. Ryan can smell them all, the faint lingering dog-scent of the werewolves sitting in a cluster at the back of the room, the musky pheromones that all elves seem to secrete. Redfield's eyes meet his, and his heart quickens despite itself.

He'd seen the news reports, but somehow it had never quite hit him that the zombie threat was growing this bad. He bites his lip.

He's seen zombies in person at university, but never in the wild. Only ever in very safe, very contained conditions, and even then there had been something terribly unnerving about them, about their cold dead flesh, the blankness of their eyes, the slow, mechanical working of their jaws, toxic drool dripping down their chins. 

_Nothing like Gavin,_ he thinks, and his chest tightens a little. He's been mistaken for a zombie before and it was the fear of them, he knows, that was part of what made it so hard for him to adjust when Ryan first brought him back. But Gavin's different- his skin is warm, and his heart beats, and his mind is intact...

But no one else would understand that, not at a glance, and he bites his tongue, feeling irrationally upset as the talk continues.

"What measures are currently in place, if any, to deal with those that have already been infected?" someone asks, at the panel.

"Not as many as I'd like," Professor Redfield replies grimly. "The bite is still the primary means of transmitting infection and the amount of zombies in rural areas now are enough to form hordes that can be inexpressibly dangerous. The US hasn't dealt with invasions on this scale before, the infection being relatively new to our shores, and the usual containment forces haven't the skills needed to effectively deal with them. Australia has already sent some troops over to help out - I believe the UK will be sending several more to aid with both containment and training. But prevention is better than cure- or in this case, elimination."

Ryan leaves the room unsettled, his mind unable to stop lingering on the image of gnashing, bloody teeth, empty eyes and grasping bony fingers. He shakes himself. Tries to dwell instead on Gavin's bright eyes, the smile that seems to light up his whole face. How Ryan can feel the strong pulse of his heart against his own chest whenever Gavin pulls him into a hug, his body fitting so easily against Ryan's. 

_Catastrophe_ , he thinks - but shakes himself. Redfield's a fear-mongering sort of fellow and Ryan doesn't even agree with half the approaches he takes to his research. If the zombie problem really is getting out of hand, he's confident the fey will find a way to deal with it, even if the humans don't manage to.

Everyone who recognises him still seems to be keeping their distance as they file out of the conference rooms, everyone heading to various restaurants for dinner before an early night. Ryan's received half a dozen invitations by email from various esteemed individuals, but he feels so wiped out that what he really wants is to go and eat pizza in his hotel room and try and get some sleep.

Still - even if he wants to be left alone, he feels oddly isolated by the sidelong glances and the shy smiles, the careful way no one's meeting his eyes for too long. Or maybe he's just missing the others, because two years ago he wouldn't have cared. Hell, he probably wouldn't even have noticed.

He pulls out his phone to check on their group chat - it's filled with pictures of what they're about to have for dinner, and Gavin apparently fell in the lake while fishing and dragged Michael in with him, a series of shenanigans that makes Ryan smile - and he's so absorbed that he nearly walks right into somebody.

"Careful!" a deep, lightly accented voice intones, and Ryan looks up, barely stopping short.

"I'm so sorry," he begins, only to pause.

The man in front of him is tall and very handsome - in that particular, ethereal way that only fey have. With broad shoulders and a narrow waist, there's an easy strength to him as he reaches out and takes Ryan's arm, steadying him. His fingers are cold, and his eyes shine the unmistakeable red of a vampire. If that wasn't a giveaway, the gentle points of his teeth when he smiles a second later are. He has delicate features, the prominent cheekbones that all vampires have, it comes with the gauntness that a diet of nothing but blood gives you - and long silver hair pulled in a low ponytail over one shoulder.

The fact that he's even meeting Ryan's eyes is a nice change. He stares sort of stupidly before smiling back and shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Sorry," he says again, "I usually hate when other people do that. Just got flooded in messages."

"Of course," the vampire replies easily, "A man as important as yourself must be very busy."

"Important?" Ryan scoffs, without even thinking about it. "Hardly."

The vampire raises an eyebrow, and gestures around them. Everyone leaving the conference floor is casting them subtle glances as they pass, and it's definitely because they recognise him. Ryan's shoulders hunch up around his ears.

"Notorious, then, more like," he says miserably. "Everyone's acting very strangely today."

"They're afraid of you," the vampire explains, which... okay. Out of everything he could have expected, that wasn't very high on the list. He must look a bit dumbfounded, because the other man smiles, and takes his arm.

"May I walk you out?" he asks, and Ryan's too shocked to really refuse.

"Why the hell would they be scared of me?" he asks, incredulous.

"Don't you realise who you are?" the vampire replies, with a low chuckle. "Your paper came out of nowhere and shook the very foundations of the scientific community. What you've proposed would change everything. And the detail, the eloquence... it may have been unnaturally long but I guarantee you those thirty thousand words riveted everyone who laid eyes on them. The sort of mind required to come up with such an outrageous hypothesis, let alone prove it and seem to be entirely correct - it is astounding. You are either mad or a genius, most likely both."

"Jesus," is all Ryan can really say in response to that.

"Yes, I believe they said the same about him," the vampire replies, and Ryan's so surprised he bursts out laughing. The vampire chuckles, too, baring his sharp teeth.

"You're the only person who's approached me all day," Ryan replies. They've reached the hotel foyer by now, and paused to one side of it. "I'm glad. It was getting a bit awkward."

"I'm sure after your talk tomorrow people will be less hesitant," the vampire says, and holds out a hand. "Professor Ze Feng Lee, by the way."

Ryan does a double take. He hadn't recognised him, but Professor Lee is well known for his ongoing research on the continuing efforts of humans to develop potions of immortality, and the comparable effects of unnatural longevity on various different types of fey. He has an extensive collection of works dating back to practically medieval times. The man is ancient - hell, probably the oldest individual Ryan's ever met apart from Geoff - and certainly far more famous than Ryan could ever hope to be. He feels flustered suddenly, and grabs Lee's hand, shaking it perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't recognise you."

"The faces behind the journal articles can always be a bit of a shock."

"No, I - I've seen your picture before, I just didn't recognise you with silver hair."

Lee laughs.

"Thought it was time for a change. Does it make me look older?" he asks, and it takes a moment for Ryan to realise he's teasing him. His face is frozen in its early thirties, his skin pale but as flawless as it must've been in his youth. He shakes his head.

"I don't think anything could," he says, and Lee smiles.

"I'm flattered you enjoy my work, then, and I must say I've been terribly impressed with yours. Your talk is tomorrow morning, isn't it?"

"Yes," Ryan replies, rather excited that such an esteemed scientist is going to be there, "I was hoping to go and practice it now, actually."

"I won't keep you. But I'd love to take you out to dinner tomorrow night, if you're free. I have a few thoughts about further directions you could take your research that you might be interested in - and some resources that I'd be more than happy to give you access to."

"Yes!" Ryan cries, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "That would be fantastic."

"I'll see you, then," Lee says, and walks away into the night. Ryan stares after him, his heart pounding. It isn't often he gets star struck, but Jesus fucking Christ, that guy is one of the most esteemed names in fey research, and one of the few whose work spans multiple species including humans. He's been alive so long that the historical breadth of his work alone is incomparable. 

_And he likes my work!_ Ryan thinks, gleefully, and instantly pulls out his phone to text Gavin all about it.

 

* * *

 

That night Ryan practices his speech three times, flubs every single one, and proceeds to wallow in the miserable resignation that he is going to humiliate himself entirely in front of several hundred Very Important People. He considers rehearsing it some more, but then grows paranoid he will tire his voice out, and so gives up and orders a large deep-dish pepperoni instead.

It's lonely in his little hotel room. They're near the CBD and outside he can hear the distant revelry of club goers, the thump of music and their shouts and whoops as they stumble home intoxicated after a busy night out. He turns on the TV but every news report seems to make him more anxious. Instead he sits on the couch and calls Gavin.

"I spied on the others all day today!" the other man informs him, proudly, after listening to all Ryan's recounts of his own day. "And I'm certain they're together. Here's my evidence, right, they came down for breakfast at literally exactly the same time and Michael made eggs for him and no one else. They went for a long walk on the moor and when they came back Michael's hair was messy-"

"Account for the wind," Ryan chimes in, and hears Gavin let out a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Okay, I'll admit that the wind does get very strong out there, but they looked like they'd been pashing-"

"Pashing?"

"Making out, Ryan!"

"I don't know if that's better or worse than your insistence on using the word _snogging_ , but sure. Okay. I mean, that's an educated guess but you still don't have solid evidence."

“Well, I shall continue my investigation,” Gavin declares, and Ryan smiles fondly, even if the other man can’t see it.

“Why are you so invested?” he can’t help asking. “We all suspected they’d end up together. Why not just let things develop as they are?”

“Well firstly, I’m a nosy parker and I want to know for my own God damn curiosity,” Gavin announces, drawing a startled laugh. But his voice softens a moment later into something a little too real, a little too vulnerable. “And I… I want to _know_ , Ryan, because the six of us… there’s a balance, isn’t there? We’d have all killed each other months ago if there wasn’t. I want to know how the two of them stand with each other because it affects how they stand with us.”

“Does it?” Ryan asks, but his heart’s pounding and he already knows the answer.

“Of course it does,” Gavin replies, but he sounds a little uncertain now. “You… you see it too, don’t you?”

Ryan isn’t quite sure what ‘it’ is, or maybe he is and just doesn’t want to think about it; the love Jack wears on his sleeve for all of them, the late nights he himself has spent up with Geoff debating philosophy under the stars, how everything with Michael always feels like it’s dialled up to eleven, every damn sense heightened, how he’s one of the few people Ray really _trusts_ and he knows that means something more than just friendship.

It’s not something he and Gavin talk about much. They can’t even admit what they feel for each other, after all, let alone four others.

He swallows, feeling suddenly unsure, but-

_After the conference,_ he thinks - that’s what he decided, isn’t it? _Yes - I’ll tell him then. Gavin first, then I’ll figure things out with the others_.

“I suppose so,” he murmurs, but he paused a bit too long and things feel a little strained. He hears Gavin swallow hard on the other end of the line.

“Anyway, I should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” he says.

“Yes! Of course. Text me how it goes. Good luck, Ryan,” Gavin adds, a little too sincerely, “I know you’ll do amazing.”

He hangs up and Ryan flops back against the pillows. His hotel room feels too confined, too lonely, the others too far away. He wants the distraction of them, from his own whirling thoughts as much as from his fear of how things will go tomorrow.

But that’s impossible, and it’s only two more days - _and then_ , he thinks grimly, _I’ll stop sitting around waiting for something to happen - I’ll_ make _it happen - we’ve been waiting long enough, we’ve been wasting enough time_.

 

* * *

 

**V. ON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIMINAL SPACES IN PROVING THE EXISTENCE OF SENTIENT LIFE IN ALTERNATE DIMENSIONS**

“And thus, while the existence of life is quite clear, the question remains how we might classify these beings. While the constraints of my current research are not enough for me to define them conclusively, I intend to next investigate a pattern that I began to see while compiling this data: the correlation of these liminal spaces with historical UFO sightings, something I believe will be extremely relevant to my current hypothesis: that these spaces do not prove another dimension in which more creatures live that we might consider the same ‘fey’ we have here on earth, no: rather, they prove the existence of something else entirely.”

He pauses for breath, staring out at the sea of wide eyes staring eagerly at him.

_“Aliens,”_ he declares, and the room bursts into uproar and clamour as he steps down from the podium.

He reaches blindly for his bottle of water, fumbling the cap off and drinking furiously. He’s breathing heavily, now, and the adrenaline’s flooding back in, sending his heart racing. Dear God - he hasn’t been that scared since he brought Gavin back.

About two minutes after he started speaking, the excitement took over and the nerves vanished; he was so wrapped up in his own presentation that he barely even looked at his lovingly crafted palm cards with their ideal 14pt 1.5-spaced Arial font that Gavin and Jack had painstakingly glued to squares of cardstock to make them easier to turn over in his hands. The entire thing had been a blur and if he’d flubbed, he didn’t even remember it - if he’d remembered his _jokes_ , drafted half a dozen times and given to various test audiences, he couldn’t say if the crowd had laughed or not.

_Did they like it?_ he thinks now - he’d been so wrapped up he’d barely noticed, except that everyone had been totally silent the whole time - but as he finally looks up at the crowd, he relaxes a little.

Everyone’s chattering excitedly to one another, smiling, waving to get his attention. _Gripped,_ Ryan realises, _they were totally gripped_ , and his gaze falls on Professor Lee, sitting in the front row to one side of the room. The Vampire is clapping, slowly, his calm red gaze fixed on Ryan. He smiles and gives an approving nod, and Ryan’s heart soars.

His assistant moves to the microphone and calls for order, gesturing for Ryan to return to the podium. 

“Thank you,” he manages to get out, feeling quite out of breath. “Thank you. Does anyone have questions?”

Just about every hand in the room shoots up. Ryan feels a hysterically pleased sort of laugh bubble up in his chest. He swallows it down, and points across the room.

“You first, sir.”

 

* * *

 

**VI. HOMO NOSFERATU VAMPIRIS**

The rest of the day is a whirlwind. Ryan can’t walk two metres without someone stopping him with some sort of question, suggestion or comment. He soon hits his limits for human interaction, despite managing to escape to watch a few other presentations, and he’s relieved when Professor Lee materialises after his last talk of the day to rescue him, whisking him off to an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city where Ryan eats lobster and Lee eats blood pudding alongside several other questionable looking red dishes. About half the other patrons are vampires and Ryan carefully doesn’t ask what sort of blood’s in the dish. Probably human. You can make a good living as a donor these days and while a few vampires still go rogue, usually if they’ve been starving a few days, it’s not a big problem in the major cities like this.

They talk for hours - about Ryan’s work, about Lee’s, about other things they’ve heard around the conference. Ryan hadn’t realised until now just how starved he was for _this_ \- someone on his intellectual level, someone who knows just about everything he does and can debate it with him. He’s happy to teach Gavin, of course, and Geoff’s smart if disinterested, but not having to stop every two seconds to explain some part of the conversation is refreshing.

It’s the first time he’s registered that there is something just a little lonely about his life of isolation out in the country; his emails to colleagues are the only time he really speaks with other scientists.

So this is nice.

It’s so nice the time seems to fly by, and before long they’re sipping coffees over fancy little desserts and the conversation has died down to more personal matters. The wine he drank has made everything feel warm and pleasantly _slow_ , and Lee’s unnaturally red eyes have something alluring about them, something that makes Ryan want to impress him. He knows, distantly, that the vampire excretes pheromones at all times that make those around him attracted and compliant, but he caught a whiff of strong cologne earlier and knows he’s covering it up - as is polite when in a situation like the conference, when a lot of people are going to be together in close proximity. That combined with the man’s professional reputation make it easier to trust him.

“The biographies on your life are extensive,” Ryan’s saying now - Lee had just been telling him about a little of his history doing work in various regions of South-East Asia - “But none of the authors ever seemed to contact you personally.”

“They tried,” Lee replies, raising his eyebrows as he takes another sip of his wine, “But I declined all their requests for interviews. They did speak to some friends of mine, they did manage to come into possession of various pieces of more personal writing than my published work - but I have no desire to tell my own story.”

“Why not?” Ryan can’t help asking.”You have a long and fascinating history.”

“My research is separate from my personal life,” Lee explains, and leans forward on his elbows. “And I think it stands on its own merits, separate to who I am as a man. The circumstances surrounding my transformation, the personal connections I’ve formed along the way - none of them matter, or they shouldn’t. They’re not things I _want_ people to know. They’re not secrets, they’re not skeletons in my closet - but they’re _mine_ , and no one else’s, no matter how _interesting_ one might find them.”

Ryan nods. He thinks of Gavin, and how careful he’s been not to mention him even when others asked about his research assistants, and he thinks he understands.

“And with the advent of this paper, you’re going to have to grapple with that too,” Lee points out. “There were people listening to your talk today who are going to bring your discoveries to the mainstream media. You are about to have a _Name_ , Ryan, and a _Presence._ People are going to want to know more about you - perhaps more than you’re willing to share.”

A slight shiver crawls down Ryan’s spine. It’s something he hadn’t thought of, not really. He’s kept such a low profile before this that he hadn’t really stopped to consider what sort of waves he was making.

“I’ll take a page from your book, then, and not share a thing,” he begins, but Lee gives a wry smile.

“It’s not always that easy,” he says. “And you’ll need allies, people who can help you keep things under wraps. You don’t live alone, do you, Ryan?”

“How do you know that?” Ryan asks. His voice is just a little too sharp and Lee’s raised eyebrow makes it clear he didn’t miss it.

“Because people are talking - talking about where you sprang from, about the work you’ve been doing these past years. They’ve already dug up enough to put a picture together; you were involved in a minor capacity in a Wendigo incident last year, weren’t you? From that they know that you have a friend who is a demon, from the whispers of those in the town around you they know that you live in a house on top of the hill in a forest known for its high fairy population with half a dozen assorted fey. They remember that some time ago you were looking into where you could purchase an enchanted heart and are furiously trying to figure out where it fits into your work.”

Ryan’s jaw clenches, alarmed. He lowers his spoon, his appetite lost, and Lee’s face softens a little.

“We’re scientists, Ryan. We _investigate_.”

“I don’t want people prying into my business,” Ryan mutters, and Lee nods. He reaches across the table and puts a hand on Ryan’s arm; his fingers are so cold they feel like ice, totally colourless. Ryan knows that no blood flows through his veins; his body’s frozen, like a stopped clock.

“I’ll help you, if I can,” he promises, and Ryan manages a small smile.

 

* * *

 

They end up leaving the restaurant and heading to Lee’s hotel room. The vampire wants to lend him several books and as he’s talking Ryan through them, Ryan can’t help but notice the inscription in the front of one of the older ones. His fingers trace over the Chinese characters.

“What does this say?” he asks, and Lee pauses next to him, his calm voice faltering for the first time.

“This was a gift to me,” he says quietly, “From a former lover. We were together for the period of time in which I lived in England.”

“Were they a vampire, too?”

“No, she was human.” A small, sad smile twitches at his lips. “I offered to turn her, but she refused. We weren’t together long - twenty years, perhaps.”

“That’s not long?” Ryan can’t help asking.

“In comparison to my lifespan? Not at all. She was in her fifties when we split - I itched to travel more for my research; she wanted to settle down. But I did love her deeply,” he adds quietly, “I greatly regret that she wouldn’t let me turn her, too. We could have been together forever.”

 _Forever_. It’s a difficult thing to wrap his head around, and one he knows Michael’s grappled with extensively. A little of the studies that the immortal helped him with actually cross over with areas of Lee’s research, but he’s not about to bring it up - not without Michael’s permission. Still - the wistful look on Lee’s face makes him suddenly acutely aware of his own lifespan; little more than a blink in comparison to the others. He’s already older than Lee must have been when he turned, although something about the other man’s silver hair makes him seem perfectly ageless.

“Are you single, Professor?” he can’t help blurting out.

Curious red eyes turn back to him, and Lee gently lays the book back on the pile.

“Not at present,” he replies, “But I’ve been in more relationships than I can count. I’ve had husbands, I’ve had wives. Some are long dead. Some have been alive hundreds of years. My first wife knew me before my transformation. We were married until her death at the age of seventy-two.”

“She never turned, either?” Ryan asks, and Lee shakes his head.

“Some have, when I offered. Those relationships continued for a long time. Eventually we grew apart, I suppose. I don’t consort with mortals anymore,” he adds, “It’s more pain than it’s worth, and not just on my side of things.”

Ryan bites his lip. He feels heavy suddenly, with the weight of a problem that he feels like he hasn’t thought enough about, and Lee touches his elbow.

“You seem preoccupied,” he says. “Are you with anybody at the moment?”

“No,” Ryan manages, but it feels like a lie immediately. He bites his lip. “Not… not yet.”

“But there is _someone.”_

“Yes,” Ryan whispers. He can smell something - a faint spicy, musky sort of smell, pleasant in its sweetness. It reminds him of autumn and the cinnamon cookies Jack made one evening, of the weather being just cool enough to sit tucked in rugs around the fireplace, of mulled wine and a pleasant burning warmth in his veins.

"Gavin," he says, almost drowsily, like the words are tumbling from his lips past his control.

"Who's Gavin?" Lee asks quietly, and before he even really knows it Ryan's telling him everything. Everything, from the sunny days beforehand and Gavin's green eyes and spiky hair and warm skin, from the hot summer days when they sweated through their shirts out in the forest and came home exhausted with swollen feet and reviewed the footage over glasses of iced tea-

Everything, from his broken, wrecked body and torn flesh to the mud of the graveyard and the bones that crunched underfoot as he dug-

Everything, from the blinding flash of the lightning to the electric-blue of Gavin's irises to the sickening, unnatural thump of his new heart through the stethoscope Ryan kept pressing to his chest, the file after file after file he kept of his vital signs, drowning in papers because numbers made sense and were predictable and the data showed _progress,_ not the creation of a monster.

Everything. The healing. The ghosts that faded, the sunlight and shadows, the shy smiles and the enclosed bubble of their lab, where time seemed to still and they both felt _endless._ He finds himself sitting on the bed with Lee's arm wrapped around his shoulders, barely conscious of how much he's just spoken. 

"Ryan," Lee says finally, and he realises he had fallen silent. "Ryan, I thought you were incredible after the talk you gave today, but what you just told me might be the single most important scientific discovery in the last century."

"What?" Ryan asks, dully. He feels like he's only just waking up.

"You resurrected a human from the dead. This is nearly unprecedented, certainly one of very, very few cases that I know of-"

"But Michael," Ryan blurts out - he's mentioned him in parts of the story, too - "He was brought back as well."

Lee shakes his head.

"Necromancy is an entirely different art," he explains, "It draws on a certain kind of magic. More likely than not, Michael has mixed blood that he doesn't know about - elf or warlock, I’d wager - far back in his lineage, but enough to make the resurrection spell work. It wouldn't on a human - you're sure that's what Gavin is?"

"Certain," Ryan whispers - he'd checked, extensively - but when he realised what Lee is getting at, his eyes widen and he grips the vampire's arm frantically. "You can't tell anybody!"

“But Ryan, surely you see the possibilities-”

“You _cannot tell anybody_.” The fierceness in his own voice startles him, and seems to shock Lee a little, too. Ryan’s breathing heavily, his grip iron-tight on the vampire’s wrist. He can’t tear his gaze away. “I didn’t do this for the research, I didn’t do it for progress or, or _possibility_. I did it because he was dead, and I needed him _back_. He’s not an experiment and I don’t want him to turn into one. You’ve lived a long time, you’ve _seen_ what people will do to things they don’t understand.”

“Take them apart,” Lee says softly. “See how they work.”

“Exactly. Not Gavin. Never Gavin.”

There’s a tense pause. Ryan feels awkward, and lets go of Lee, who tilts his head. His face softens.

“You love him,” he says.

Ryan bites his lip and looks away. He can’t deny it. It feels strange hearing someone say it out loud - but it’s true, and his silence speaks volumes. 

“Please,” he manages to whisper finally. “You can’t let anyone know about him. I have to keep him _safe_.”

“Don’t worry,” Lee says. “Your secret is safe with me.” He scoffs out a laugh. “Believe me, I am in no rush to have the humans all scampering to try and bring their long-lost loved ones back from the dead. With the state of the zombie infection as bad as it is, it’s the last thing anybody needs.”

Ryan’s shoulders relax.

“Thank you,” he manages, and Lee tilts his head.

“I have to say, though, I am intrigued by the questions this raises. You call him an undead,” he says, and Ryan nods - a little wary, but reassured that Lee seems genuine. “And you said you’d seen no signs of further decomposition and deterioration. You understand, of course, that my work involves both the biological and psychological consequences of immortality. As far as you know, it seems like Gavin will live forever.”

“It depends how long the enchanted heart lasts,” Ryan says.

“But you could always replace it, if for some reason it failed.”

“I suppose,” Ryan says dubiously.  
  
“So he, too, is immortal - it will be interesting for you to observe the changes in his state compared to Michael’s,” Lee muses. “But what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“You said you love him. He isn't going to age, but you are. You seem about to find yourself in a similar dilemma to the one that I have faced."

He tilts his head, regarding Ryan quite seriously. Ryan bites his lip, looking away. Honestly, he's still young and fit enough that his own mortality rarely crosses his mind. His work has kept him busy enough, and aside from the occasional conversation with Michael or Geoff about the future, it's something they've pretty much laid aside as something they just don't think about.

Now, of course, Lee's pointed out just how much of a fucking issue it is. Especially if he's about to tell Gavin how he feels. Especially if he wants to turn this, all of this, into something real rather than just something possible.

"I... I don't know," he stammers.

Lee leans closer, and Ryan get another lungful of warm, smoky syrup.

"I could turn you," he offers, quietly.

Ryan stiffens, and Lee must notice.

"It doesn't hurt," he says. "It feels pleasant, actually. It won't kill you - not if I drain you entirely. You wake up and yes, it's a bit hard to get used to at first - but eventually it's just your normal reality. You could live forever, Ryan, as a vampire. It's a choice many make quite voluntarily. You wouldn't have to worry about growing old. You'd be around forever to protect Gavin. And you'd have even longer to do your research."

Ryan's shaking his head, horrified already. 

Become a vampire? It's fucking ludicrous. He'd be laughing if Lee didn't sound so damn serious.

"I couldn't," he begins, but Lee puts a hand on his knee.

"Why not?" he asks. "What's stopping you? You can't tell me that in your line of work you haven't considered it."

"I mean... it's crossed my mind when researching the werewolf and vampire viruses, but... I wouldn't. I'm human, I _like_ being human-"

"After a while, you don't even miss it. You won't need to sleep. Superhuman strength. You'll never get sick again. In most sector vampires aren't even shunned anymore. You have an absolutely brilliant mind, Ryan," Lee adds, "I'd hate to see it wasted on a human lifespan. Look at me - how much I've managed to accomplish! I've seen the world literally change around me. In a hundred years, two hundred, there will be technologies we cannot even imagine. Technologies that could progress your work in directions you can't even conceive right now. Don't you want to be around to see it? All of you, your little family? We could work together. Think how much we could do in a lifetime."

For a moment, it's tempting. Lee sounds so calm, so matter of fact- and nothing he's saying is untrue.

"I bite you," he whispers, leaning in. His breath is cold against Ryan's neck. "It stings a little at first, but then it actually feels quite addictive. A little like getting drunk. You fall asleep, and when you wake up, you are changed. It will burn at first, and you'll feel an endless hunger, but you get used to it quickly once you've fed. It takes a day at most. And then you'll no longer age, you'll be more powerful than ever before... you can't go out in daylight anymore, but it's not so bad. There are plenty of places in the city that cater to vampires' needs."

It sounds so fucking easy. Especially since he's seen Lee's work, he's read about his life, hell, he follows him on fucking twitter. He lives a normal life - more than normal, a life longer and more fulfilling than any other human. He's done so much, and has never had to worry about running out of time.

_You could do it. You really could. You could be with Gavin forever._

He turns and meets Lee's intense, crimson eyes, struggling to swallow. His mouth is very dry. He pictures himself, pale and perfect, frozen in time, his own eyes red as blood. Then shakes himself.

He thinks of vampires, of the stories they've heard, of the ones that turn wild and hurt people, of the moonlight rituals, the blood magic. He thinks of the poems he's read about the lingering emptiness, he thinks of the fear in humans' eyes when covens come into town. Thinks of what the others would say, how Gavin would look at him, and Geoff, and Michael. 

And of Gavin, and what he lost when Ryan brought him back. How even now, the other man sometimes goes too quiet - stares too long into the mirror, touching his face, looking down at his scarred hands. How he gets a funny, lost sort of look in his eyes, like he's still trying to figure himself out.

You could argue that _any_ sort of change as big as giving up your humanity would come with its own problems - that over time he'd get used to it. But the decision, right now at least, seems pretty damn clear. He shakes his head.

"I can't," he says. "I wouldn't be _me_ anymore. It's not something I could just undo. There are things that make us human, that shape us. To be mortal is just one of them."

"I understand," Lee replies quietly. "It's a difficult choice and not one to be made on a whim - but the offer is open, Ryan. If you ever change your mind and you need a vampire you can trust, I'm more than happy to."

Ryan nods. He tries to smile, but he's sure it must come out strained and grotesque. Lee squeezes his knee.

"And your secrets are safe with me," he assures him. "Now, you should rest. You've had a tiring day and there must be a lot on your mind."

There's something very kind about his voice. And God, Ryan respects him, trusts him, admires him - to work together would be incredible. He's seen what Lee's been able to do with all the time in the world at his hands. _You could have that, too_. But he can't do this, he _can't._

He goes back to his own room discomfited, and lies awake for a long time unable to sleep. There's a loose awning on the building across from his window, and as the wind makes it flap and sends dark shadows fleeing across his walls, he keeps thinking he sees lurking figures between each movement.

_If you accepted,_ he thinks, _all your research would take place during the night from now on. You couldn't go out in the sun and daylight any more. It would change a lot with the others._

_But you wouldn't have to be scared any more. Of the winter, of the dark. The bad things would all be afraid of you._

Still. It doesn't seem worth it, not when those long summer days are so fondly entrenched in his memories, not when they're so inextricably tied to his slow fall for Gavin, to how all of them pulled together, became a family.

He must drift off at some point. He wakes up at three in the morning, a sudden chill running down his spine, and half-unsure if he's asleep or awake, he wanders to the window and looks out.

His room overlooks the front car park of the hotel. It means he has a perfect view as the doors open and dark figures emerge from all sides to congregate in the middle. Some are holding torches, others have gone archaic with candlesticks; all of them have the bony frames of vampires, and in the depths of the night it sends a chill down Ryan's spine as he watches them mingle together before heading off down the road. From up here, observing, he can't hear anything, and the group seems sinister its silence. He catches a flash of Lee's silver hair among them.

It's probably nothing - probably all of the vampire scientists going out together because they couldn't during the day time, probably nothing so unsettling as his imagination is making it seem. But the unease won't stop hanging over him, and when he climbs back into bed he feels cold all over, and falls asleep curled up with one hand pressed to his heart, making sure he can still feel it beating.

 

* * *

 

**VII. DAY THREE**

Ryan gets so little sleep that he's barely aware of his surroundings the next day - the last day - countless people come up and ask him more questions, but he can't remember what he says to any of them. He's only really conscious of two things; the crowds surrounding them, cataloguing every aspect of their bodies. The red flashes of vampires' eyes, catching his attention whenever one walks past him. The faint lingering smell of werewolves, the elves who tower half a head over everybody else-

The warmth of the humans. There are more there than any other species, and he feels too conscious of his own pounding heart suddenly, his warm blood, the fragility of his body.

That, and the phone in his hand, buzzing continually as the others spam him in the group chat. Photos of their breakfast, of Michael threatening to clean the lab, videos of Gavin trying to climb a tree to take photos of a mysterious bird nest and then getting stuck. The others’ bickering, joking around, planning what they’re gonna eat when Ryan gets back (the majority of their conversations, he notes drily, seem to revolve around food).

It all sends a pang through his chest. He misses them. It’s stupid, because it’s only been two days, and he’ll be back tomorrow, and he’s a grown ass man who shouldn’t get upset over having to leave his friends for less than a week. If he wants to talk to Geoff about Lee’s proposition, or Michael, then he has plenty of time to do that once he gets home.

But it’s not quite that he _misses_ them, he realises, the more that he thinks about it. It’s the sort of sadness that comes with a mother looking at her small child and knowing that one day they’re gonna grow up - that comes with leaving school and thinking back to how carefree those days of youth were, back when you were blissfully unaware of the world’s dangers and all your petty troubles seem minute in comparison to what you face now. Their happiness, this _balance_ , suddenly seems to have a time limit on it. Already the last few months seem to have slipped away too-fast.

_Better enjoy it while you have the chance, because you won’t be around forever._

_Gavin will. Michael will. Geoff will._

_But not you, and not Ray or Jack. One day, in the distant future, all of this will be nothing but a memory to them_.

Dear God it’s depressing to think about, and it’s a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach all day, even as he goes to various fascinating presentations and hands a lot of eager people his email address.

 

* * *

 

**VIII. PACK MENTALITY**

It’s drawing towards evening and everyone’s getting ready for the big final dinner in which everyone will spend more time frantically networking than actually enjoying themselves that Ryan gets himself into trouble.

Well, it’s more that trouble finds him; he’s lingering in the foyer waiting for other people to start to leave so that he’s not awkwardly the first one to arrive at the restaurant when he finds himself suddenly surrounded by half a dozen incredibly hairy middle aged men. He recognises the leader of the group, a grizzly, bespectacled individual who he knows is one of the leading minds when it comes to looking into what triggers spontaneous werewolf transformation on nights other than the full moon. Ryan read some of his work while looking into what was wrong with Ray last Autumn.

Right now the man seems anything but calm and collected; rather he seems quite bothered, and his posse of intimidatingly buff research students are just as riled up.

“You smell like wolf,” the doctor accuses, pointing a finger at Ryan’s chest.

“Excuse me?” he manages.

“I said you smell like wolf,” the man repeats, and Ryan’s eyebrows rise.

“I mean, we’ve all been sitting in such close proximity to each other for the last three days. I’d be surprised if anyone didn’t smell like everybody else.”

“No,” the doctor continues, frustrated, “It’s different. Someone you’ve been around for so long they’ve ended up marking you with their scent. Who is it?” he adds, a demanding note in his voice, “I know where you conduct most of your research, Haywood. There are no packs out there.”

_Ray_ , Ryan thinks, with a sinking feeling. But something about the aggressive note in the other man’s voice is bothering him, and he straightens up defensively.

“What’s it to you?” he demands.

The man lets out a growl of frustration and Ryan sees the impact it has on the rest of the group.

“A lone wolf is dangerous,” he replies, voice very tight. “They can’t be controlled. For a long time human society has shunned us. Packs have rules, we keep each other under control. But all it takes is a few bad incidents for people to start seeing us as dangerous again. We can’t have people off on their own doing God knows what. So if there’s something you think I should know about, Doctor Haywood - or someone you think I should _collect_ \- I’d advise telling me.”

“There isn’t,” Ryan replies coldly, but he can tell the other man doesn’t believe him. His nostrils flare and he steps forward - Ryan’s back stiffens in alarm, especially as the rest of the group moves forward - but a moment later there’s a cold hand on his arm and a tall presence by his side.

“Do we have a problem here?” Lee asks, his gaze sweeping frostily across the entire group.

The wolves’ hackles all rise; the feud between the two species, Ryan knows,  is instinctual by this point, born of generation after generation of warfare.

“Not one that concerns you,” the werewolf replies.

“Ryan? If you’re finished here, I have something I’d like to speak with you about,” Lee prompts.

“We’re done,” Ryan replies firmly, and Lee nods and whisks him out of there and back towards the elevator. He hears the wolves let out a low, thrumming growl behind them, but they don’t follow - still, when Ryan looks over his shoulder and meets the glinting, golden eyes of their leader, he has no doubt that this business isn’t finished.

“Thanks,” he manages, as the lift doors shut behind them. “Did you really want to speak to me about something?”

“No, but you looked like you could do with some help,” Lee replies, as he hits the button for the floor of his own room. “It can be good to have allies on your side. There are a lot of old tensions within the fey community. It could be dangerous for a human to get mixed up in.”

Geoff’s warning drifts into his mind. The elevator feels a little too small, suddenly.

“He knows one of my housemates is a werewolf,” he blurts out. “He wants to come and _collect_ him.”

“He has a point in some regards,” Lee says slowly. “The vampires who’ve integrated themselves into human society keep one another accountable. Werewolf packs are similar. A lone wolf is unpredictable.”

“Ray isn’t dangerous,” Ryan snaps.

“I know you believe that. But I also know that you must’ve read up on any number of cases where something triggered a transformation, when a wolf just couldn’t control themselves. It’s their nature,” he says, not unkindly, “And a hungry vampire is just as dangerous.”

Ryan doesn’t answer. They reach Lee’s floor and when he steps out, Ryan follows. He isn’t sure why, just that the other man is older than him, with the wisdom of experience, and Ryan feels like he’s drowning suddenly. He came here to present one paper and it feels like he’s leaving with a whole score of problems he wasn’t even aware of before; zombies, werewolves, the crushing pressure of his inevitable death. Y’know, the usual.

“Ryan?” Lee prompts quietly. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you think it’s the wrong thing to do?” Ryan can’t help asking. At Lee’s questioning look he adds, a little hysterically, “Clinging to my own mortality.”

Lee’s face softens. He leads Ryan down the corridor to a window that looks over the park behind the hotel, gesturing for him to sit on the sill beside him. Ryan pulls himself up and lets his head rest against the cool glass, staring out at the overcast sky, the tangled dark brush that fringes the grassy space. There might be gnomes there, he thinks, it’s big and dark enough. They sometimes come in to the city areas. But he’s always been less interested in the city fey.

“I don’t think it’s wrong,” Lee begins. Ryan turns to look at him. He has no reflection in the glass next to them, and there’s something deeply unsettling about that, something that feels primally _unnatural_. “No one can force you to give up being human. There are many who would argue that deliberately becoming a vampire in pursuit of immortality is the immoral choice.”

“But,” Ryan says.

“But,” Lee agrees, “I do think there are benefits to the decision, in your case. The knowledge you could continue to pursue. The ability to protect your friends. The relationship you could sustain with them. Those aren’t things you _owe_ anybody, Ryan. They’re things whose importance you need to judge for yourself.”

“I’ll always protect my friends as best as I can,” Ryan says fiercely, only to falter. “But maybe my best isn’t as a human. If that man comes knocking on my door-“

“You have powerful allies already,” Lee points out. “That demon. Myself. Countless others who you will probably meet now that so many are interested in your work. You aren’t alone, Ryan, and this isn’t all on your shoulders.”

It makes sense. And Ryan knows Geoff won’t let anyone take Ray away; that concern slips from his mind - for now.

It’s the last one that sticks. He looks out the window again; a little boy is running in the park, chased by his laughing father. Nearby, two nervous looking teenagers sit on a bench in the park, tentatively holding hands, glancing at each other quickly and then looking away again. He thinks of what it will be like to finally admit to Gavin that he loves him. The blossoming newness; a familiarity charged with something exciting and fresh. He thinks of the steady maturity of growing to know one another over the years, their little family united in new ways.

He thinks of growing old.

Lee is watching him silently. There is a deep pain in his eyes that Ryan has seen before, in Michael. He knows it comes with watching others grow old and die around you. It should put him off but instead he thinks of Michael, Geoff, _Gavin_ alone, the rest of them long turned to dust. They’ll take care of each other-

But Ryan, Ryan wants to be there. He brought Gavin back, he _made_ him what he is. He can’t abandon him to an endless existence that he never asked for.

“I need some air,” he murmurs, and Lee gives an understanding nod.

“I’m not going to the dinner,” he replies. “I’ll be in my room if you need to find me.”

Ryan nods, already rising, vacantly, walking out in a zombie-like daze.

 

* * *

**IX. MORTALITY**

It’s cold out in the park, and Ryan didn’t bring a coat, but he barely notices. He feels numb all over as he trudges through the undergrowth of the park, twigs scratching at his arms and face. His phone is buzzing continually in his pocket, but he ignores it. Half a dozen people took his number earlier and asked if they could take him out for drinks. He doesn’t want to see any of them right now.

His head’s spinning.

_A lifetime passes in an instant. You will be old before you know it. Your grandfather lived in that house before you; he used to tell you stories about his youth like they happened only yesterday. You don’t realise until it’s too late. Will Gavin look like Lee, one day? With ancient eyes and several lifetimes’ worth of wisdom? He’s still young, Michael too, they’re infants compared to him. But one day._

_One day_ -

 

* * *

 

He feels like he’s walking in a dream as he moves through the brightly lit, whitewashed corridors of the hotel - like he expects to see ghosts at the end of the hall, twin girls like it’s the fucking Shining - it’s stupid. He knows it is-

(But he knows Michael sees ghosts, too, all the time, everywhere-

_He’ll see yours one day_. It’s an awful, morbid thought but he can’t shake it-)

If he can’t do this now, he never will.

He knocks on Lee’s door and the vampire opens it immediately. Ryan’s hit instantly with a smell so strong he nearly takes a step back, an overpowering, spicy musk. He feels drunk almost immediately. 

“Ryan?” Lee prompts. He looks oddly _normal_ in an old t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit pants, barefoot, his silver hair tumbling over his shoulders. Not the sharply dressed professor that Ryan knows, not dressed as some gothic lord. There is something almost human about it.

“I want you to bite me,” Ryan hears himself say.

Lee stands for a long moment. Ryan feels like he’s drowning in his eyes, like all he can see is red. He’s too aware of his own pounding heart. He can hear it in his ears. After a moment Lee reaches out and takes his hand, turning it over in his; his fingers are icy cold and hard, like Gavin’s were when Ryan first laid him out on that lab bench.

“You realise,” Lee says softly, “That you are going to die.”

“I know.”

“Your heart will stop. Your brain will shut down. Before the virus takes over and reanimates you, you might… see things.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to make this decision in a rush, Ryan,” Lee urges. “You will never feel the sunlight on your skin again without pain. You will come to avoid the light of day. Don’t you want to pause, take at least one more day to relish being _human?”_

“If I don’t do this now,” his voice rings out, distant, like a ghost, “I never will.”

“You should speak about this with your friends first-“

“I thought you agreed with this decision,” Ryan says, and Lee sighs. Ryan steps closer.

“Please,” he says. “If you don’t help me, there are others-“

“Okay,” Lee cuts in, looking alarmed. “Don’t put yourself in danger. I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

**X. THE PROCEDURE**

Ryan's heart is slamming so fast that it nearly hurts. The warm, heady smell in the room is overpowering, thick and nearly hard to breathe. He kneels on the soft carpet, Lee sitting on the bed behind him. 

_This is a bad idea_ , some faint part of himself still thinks, but it's washed away almost immediately. _You're scared, but you need to be brave. This is for the others. For Gavin. For you-and-Gavin and everything you could be. Everything you_ will _be._

One of Lee's frozen hands settles on his shoulder, pulling him back against his legs. The other wraps gently around his neck and then tilts his head back, throat exposed. Ryan's breath catches, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. He vaguely registers that he's trembling, and Lee's thumb rubs a gentle, cold circle against the side of his neck.

"Relax," he whispers, leaning in close, his breath frosty against Ryan's skin. "This will only hurt for a second."

He leans in, and Ryan squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for the pain-

"What the fuck is going on here?" 

The familiar shriek of Geoff's voice makes Ryan's eyes snap open. A moment later Lee is being seized and flung away from him, so violently that he flies clean across the room and slams into the opposite wall.

Ryan staggers to his feet. Geoff has materialised out of nowhere and is standing between him and Lee, angrier than Ryan's ever seen him before. The demon is completely engulfed in blazing blue flames, singing the white ceiling and the carpet under him with a spreading black spot. 

"Stay the fuck away from him," he roars, in a deep, inhuman voice.

Lee bolts upright. Talons spring from his fingers and his eyes flash red as he faces up to Geoff with a snakelike hiss, baring his fangs threateningly. 

"Geoff," Ryan begins helplessly. He feels like he's waking from a dream - the demon’s sudden presence has shocked him right out of the daze he'd fallen into. "Geoff, stop-"

"He was about to fucking bite you, Ryan!" Geoff seethes. "No, I won't fucking stop-"

"I asked him to!"

The words tear from his throat and he feels the shock that descends on Geoff as an almost physical blow. His flames die away, leaving the room silent and still, and he turns to Ryan with wide, helpless eyes.

"What?"

Ryan swallows. Things seemed so clear before - but suddenly, with Geoff staring at him with a deep shock and sadness in his eyes, he feels nothing but embarrassed.

"I asked him to," he repeats quietly, and Geoff steps towards him. His mouth opens and shuts a few times, flabbergasted.

"Ryan, I don't... I... _why?_ Why would you do that? What did he say to you?"

"It wasn't him," Ryan says firmly, and takes a deep breath. "It was my choice. I became... very aware, I suppose, of the limits of my mortality."

Geoff looks disappointed. Somehow that hurts the most.

"You want to live forever? That's what this is about? For fuck's sake, Ryan-"

"No," Ryan cuts in, frustrated. "It’s not about that, of course it’s not. It’s Gavin, it’s all of _you_ , it's how half our fucking household is immortal and what are we gonna do when some of us start getting older? When some of us die?"

Geoff looks shocked - then frowns again.

"Jesus, Ryan, that's morbid as fuck - and hopefully a long, long way off! And in what fucked up world is becoming a vampire your idea of a solution to that problem? What put that in your head?"

Ryan looks away, sheepishly, and Geoff's face softens. He steps closer, one hand on Ryan's arm. It's easy to forget sometimes just how powerful he is, how ancient too, but from the gravity on his face Ryan suddenly remembers just how far from human Geoff is. Time works differently where he comes from, Ryan knows, but he must be older even than Lee.

"I know you're probably going through some kind of terrible existential crisis," he observes, and Ryan scoffs a little. "But come on, dude, even if you were thinking about it - talk to us first? Do this here and now and you'll regret it forever. Talk to me about it. Talk to Michael. Weigh up the possibilities. For God's sake ask Gavin what he thinks, if you're doing it for him. But let me tell you one thing, I've seen a hell of a lot of humans live and die and wander along to the afterlife and let me tell you - you lot might not live long, but your lives still matter. Mortality breeds other things. Sincerity. Kindness. A different way of seeing the world."

Ryan hangs his head. His eyes are burning with something too close to tears now; he knows Geoff's right, he knows he can't do this, not now at least. But things still feel something like hopeless. After a moment, Geoff tugs him into a blazing hug.

"Hey," he says quietly, "Come home. We'll figure this out. We'll hash it out together. But don't start making snap decisions based on something that's like fifty fucking years in the future. That's just stupid."

"You're right," Ryan chokes out, and composes himself with great effort and some vigorous blowing of his nose into the front of Geoff's shirt.

Lee is hovering nearby, watching them. Ryan tenses as he steps away from Geoff and turns towards them, but the vampire just smiles.

"No hard feelings," he says, and Ryan shakes his head.

"None - sorry, professor."

"I understand completely. It's not a decision to make lightly and as I said, if you change your mind in the future the offer is open. But perhaps you'll find another option. A man as driven as you will, I'm sure, discover a compromise." He glances at Geoff, who's still scowling at him, and smiles a little. "You have some powerful allies. Count me among them. You may need us."

Well that's totally fucking ominous. Still, Ryan's just glad he doesn't hold a grudge; he squeezes Lee's offered hand, feeling rather embarrassed, like he's made a fool of himself in front of one of his heroes.

"You're young, Ryan," Lee says. "You still have time."

Time - he does, and he has to remind himself of it, and he takes a deep breath and follows Geoff towards the door. It's only then that the absurdity of the situation strikes him, and he bursts out laughing.

"By the way, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Geoff starts to laugh too. In the fresh air of the corridor his head feels clearer and it's easier to breathe.

"You weren't answering your phone at all. We got really worried. Well, Gavin did - I thought you were just busy, the others agreed, but he insisted we come all the way out here to check on you. I figured it was just an excuse to see you sooner but the longer you went without replying to us, the more uneasy we got. I teleported ahead," he adds, "But the others are in a car on the way here. We'll meet them in the foyer."

Ryan takes out his phone and does a double take; he spent so long wandering around worrying over his problem that he hadn't realise several hours had passed. Turns out his buzzing phone was Gavin's attempts to contact him; he has over a dozen missed calls spread out over the last few hours.

"Fuck," he hisses, only to smile at the thought that Gavin dragged the others halfway across the country just because Ryan wasn't answering his phone. 

And his heart warms again at the realisation that they're here, they're all _here_ \- they've come to take him home.

They head down into the foyer. Most of the conference have left already; a few people aren't going to the dinner and are instead left lingering around. Ryan was going to catch a night time flight straight after the meal and his suitcases are already packed and waiting at reception; he's just collected them when the others troop through the doors in a funny cluster.

They get stares immediately, mostly because Jack is probably the only swamp creature to step foot in a city like this in years - but when people notice that it's Ryan who they're rushing over to, they hang back, too intimidated to approach.

"Ryan!" Gavin cries, as soon as he sees him, and Ryan jogs to meet him. They slam into each another in a rough, full-bodied hug, squeezing one another tightly. Ryan wraps his arms around Gavin and buries his face in his hair; after his tumultuous day, just seeing the other man is a relief, and holding him in his arms makes all Ryan's lingering worries melt away. This is what he's been doing everything for. This is what matters. And all it takes is seeing Gavin again to remember all those reasons, those human qualities, that made him fall for him in the first place; his wonder and curiosity, his relentless yearning for adventure. Things that made Ryan open up, too. He knows he'll lose something if he goes through with this, something that he might not be able to put his finger on at first, but that makes him inexpressibly human.

"It's good to see you," he murmurs, only to be hit with a pang of fear - there was a reason he wanted Gavin to stay away, after all - but when they pull apart and he gets a good look at Gavin, he relaxes a little. He's wearing make up, a thick layer of foundation that looks bizarre up close but covers his uneven skin and scars well enough that at a glance no one can tell he's not human. Sunglasses cover his unnatural blue eyes and he lifts them now to peer up at Ryan.

"Were you in trouble?" he asks worriedly. "You didn't answer the phone."

"A bit," Ryan replies. "Trouble of my own making, but nothing too bad. I'll tell you about it later. Right now I just want to get out of here."

"Yes," Gavin says, "Come home, please. It's dull without you."

Ryan laughs, flattered, and turns to the others - Jack is by Geoff's side, pressed close, murmuring to him, but he meets Ryan's eyes and smiles, impervious to the stares he's getting from the hotel staff and scientists alike. Michael and Ray linger back, their hands brushing, and Ryan feels something settle deep in his chest. God, but he's missed them all, and he wants nothing more than to get back to the house.

"Let's get out of here, then," he says, and Gavin grabs his hand and the handle of Ryan's suitcase, dragging him along out the door. People are watching them as they pass, but Ryan couldn't care less; whatever questions they might ask, it's a problem for another day.

Only one familiar face does catch his eye, right as they are heading out the doors. Kdin is lingering with a crowd of other witches and warlocks who seem about to make their own trip home, and her eyes are fixed on Gavin. She's clearly recognised him, and she looks at Ryan with such an intense frown that it makes him falter.

He hasn't seen her since she sold him the enchanted heart that let him bring Gavin back, and he still remembers all the warnings. _All magic comes with a price_. But it's been over a year now, and nothing has happened, and he swallows his discomfort and forces a smile before letting the others tug him out the door and on his way.

 

* * *

 

**XI. RESULTS**

It's nearly midnight and their plane will board soon. The more time passes the more surreal the events of the evening feel; it's odd to think that just hours ago he was wandering around in the park, that if Geoff hadn't burst in when he did, Ryan would probably be dead right now, lying bloodless and frozen in Lee's hotel room, waiting to wake up, and nothing would ever be the same again.

There's something odd and out of time to airports at night, something that feels almost like a liminal space; the endless drone of planes overhead, the constant monotonous numbers being read out over the intercom, the ticking countdowns on the screens around them. A weariness hanging over everyone's heads as they sit in the uncomfortable chairs at their gate, waiting to board.

Geoff and Jack went to hunt down food some time ago, and Michael and Ray have both fallen asleep, leaning against one another's shoulders, heads resting on one another, looking oddly young and peaceful. Ryan sits in the row opposite, watching them with a small smile. His own bone-deep exhaustion hangs over him, but he knows he won't get to sleep for a while, not after everything that's happened.

Gavin went for a walk some time ago, but he returns now and throws himself into the seat beside Ryan, giving him a tired smile. They've all been filled in on what happened with Lee, and Ryan feels faintly embarrassed still - especially because, aside from Michael calling him a fucking idiot, no one's really discussed it yet. He's left hanging, unsure what they all think of him. Unsure what _Gavin_ thinks of him. He's too cowardly to ask.

Still - Gavin doesn't seem upset, shifting to get himself comfortable before letting his gaze drift over to Michael and Ray.

"I brought you something," he announces.

"What?" Ryan says.

Gavin rummages in his jacket and produces a bundle of paper, stapled at the corner. He passes it to Ryan, who unfolds it in bewilderment - only to break into a fit of laughter.

Gavin’s typed up a painstakingly methodical account of all the prying he’s done into Michael and Ray’s business over the last two days, complete with a frame-by-frame analysis of photographs of all their interactions set against screenshots from various romance dramas. His literature review contains such gems as google searches for ‘how to tell if two of your friends are dating each other’ and extracts from Mills and Boon romance novels.

“They’re definitely together,” Gavin stage whispers, and Ryan has to press a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“How many words is this?” he demands.

“Eight-thousand.”

“Jesus, Gavin, you committed.”

Gavin shrugs a little, but he seems pleased he amused Ryan. He rests his head on the other man’s shoulder and gazes over at their two sleeping friends.

“I think they’ll be really happy together,” he murmurs, and Ryan manages a nod. His heart’s fluttering faster and as he stares down at the ridiculous document in his hands and knows that he doesn’t just like Gavin, he _loves_ him deeply, truly, endlessly. There’s no reason to wait any longer.

“Gav,” he whispers, and Gavin looks up at him. Ryan shifts in his seat to turn and look at him and he sees Gavin’s eyes widen at the look on his face. “My presentation went amazingly. I couldn’t have done it without you.”  
  
“You keep saying that, but it was mostly your work.”

“No, I mean it. Not just the help you gave me with the research, but this…” he gestures at Michael and Ray, at the bags Jack and Geoff left behind. “This family. What we have, together, here - you built all that. If you hadn’t come knocking at my door that one day we would never have met Geoff, or Jack, and Michael probably wouldn’t have stayed… you’re the one who really built all this.”

“I like to think of it as a group effort,” Gavin says, but gives a small smile. “But thank you.”

“I mean it,” Ryan insists, “It means a lot to me. More than I can say. And what I did earlier today - it was fucked up and stupid and I wasn’t thinking straight-”

“Please don’t be a vampire,” Gavin blurts out, “I don’t want that.”

“I don’t either,” Ryan assures him, “I just got scared, because I care about you a lot, and I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Gavin insists.

“After I’m gone-”

“I don’t want to think about that.” He literally presses his hands over his ears and Ryan reaches out and gently plucks them off.

“You don’t have to - not right now, at least - but I don’t want to waste any more time.”

He sees the cogs turn in Gavin’s head, sees his lips part in surprise as he realises what Ryan means. He squeezes Gavin’s hands then reaches up and cups his cheek - Gavin leans into him eagerly and Ryan tilts his head up and moves in to press their lips together.

It’s not their first kiss, but it is the first time that Ryan’s the one to initiate things, to take control. He lets his eyes slip shut, lets himself grasp Gavin tightly and pull him closer. He can feel the other man’s pulse where his thumb is pressed in under his jaw, a steady rhythm that makes something thrum in his own veins, and Gavin’s own hands come up to tangle in his hair, pulling Ryan in to kiss him more deeply.

When they break apart Ryan’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more alive, and he doesn’t think Gavin’s eyes, glowing like a cat’s in the dark, have ever looked more beautiful. Both of them are dishevelled and breathless, but Ryan can see the hope in Gavin’s face.

“Are we…?” he begins, and Ryan swallows.

“If you want to be,” he says, and sees Gavin’s face split into a huge grin, one that makes Ryan smile, too.

“Of course I want to be,” he replies, and then leans in and hugs Ryan, resting his head on his chest, an oddly innocent motion. Ryan wraps his arms around him tightly, kissing the top of his head. He glances over at Michael and Ray, curled together, sleeping peacefully, and it doesn’t feel like any of them are running out of time. It feels like everything’s falling into place.

 

* * *

 

**XII. CONCLUSION**

Ryan’s not often the one who finds himself up on the roof of the house. It’s Michael’s domain more than his. But after they arrive home he isn’t sure what draws him up there; he’s exhausted, he hasn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but his mind is still racing and he has no idea what tomorrow will bring them. The others have all crashed, but he’s still running high on the adrenaline of the conference.

It’s just before dawn, but the weather’s taken a hot turn and the roof tiles under him are warm as he sits, cross-legged, watching the sun rise against a streaked and bloody sky. He turns his hands over and over, looks at his pale arms and the dark veins running under the thin skin of his wrists. Pulls his knees up and closes his eyes - dry and sore from being awake so long - and thinks of Jack and Geoff sitting up in the kitchen together talking, about him no doubt. Thinks of how he saw Michael slipping down the corridor to Ray’s room earlier, silent as a ghost but smiling with some secret thrill. They’re coming together. There’s still time.

He hears footsteps behind him and a moment later Gavin sits next to him, leaning in to press himself against Ryan’s side.

“You must be exhausted,” he whispers, and Ryan smiles a bit.  
  
“Can’t sleep. Thinking too much.”

“New research questions?” Gavin asks, and Ryan laughs a bit.

“Oh, the list is endless. We’ll start on a new project soon. First I think we all need a bit of a break. Big things are coming.”

“I tremble with anticipation,” Gavin says, but Ryan reaches out and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. It’s nice to be able to do that and _know_ what it means, and he sees Gavin look down and give a small, content smile.

“New things can be good,” Ryan points out, and Gavin nods.

“They can,” he says, and rests his head on Ryan’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to worry about it.”

“About what?” Ryan asks.

“Dying,” Gavin says, and huffs out a laugh. “God, that sounds morbid. But Ryan… Michael worries about it enough for all of us. And we spend all day chasing fairies in the forest, and you’re trying to prove bloody aliens exist. There’s magic of all sorts to discover that we don’t even know about yet. We’ll figure things out somehow. The answers to all our problems are out there. We’ll uncover them like we do everything else. Please don’t be a vampire because I want to go to the beach in summer and we can’t do that if you aren’t able to go in the sun.”

Ryan barks out a laugh.

“I like that that’s your main reason.”

“I want to bury Jack completely up to his neck in the sand so that he looks like a small shrub. He said he’ll let me.”

Ryan lets out a rather undignified snort, and Gavin’s lips twitch.

“For real though,” he whispers, _“Both o_ f us shouldn’t be undead. And I know it will hurt you. If I could become human again I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’m used to this body now but it still feels like I’m missing something. So don’t give that up, not even for me. Promise?”

“I promise,” Ryan assures him.

“Good,” Gavin says, and leans up and kisses him on the cheek. Even that innocent contact makes Ryan’s heart flutter, and he leans against Gavin’s side, letting his head rest on the other man’s. The sun rises further, bathing them in a golden light of its warm rays; it’s so pleasant against his skin that he almost can’t believe that just last night he was willing to give that up forever.

It’s comfortable here, as the morning birds begin their call and the sounds and smell of the forest carry towards them on the wind. Here they are, home, together, _together_ , and he feels himself finally begin to grow drowsy. Gavin shifts so Ryan’s head’s on his shoulder, an arm around his shoulders, and he lets his eyes slip shut - let himself focus on the gentle stroke of Gavin’s thumb across the back of his hand, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and the thump of both their hearts in sync with one another, a reminder that they’re both alive, alive, alive.


End file.
